Любовь моя, приди ко мне
by venomoxide
Summary: Canada tries to be polite as Russia makes his usual visit, but this time, it's not enough to please the smiling nation.


**Hey guys! So, no, I am not giving up on my PrussiaxCanada fanfiction, I am simply writing out a random one shot that I work on while I'm sitting through class. This pairing is RussiaxCanada, obviously.  
This is probably my OTP, to be honest. They just fit together perfectly!**

So warnings and disclaimer.  
This is yaoi. That means two boys doing the nasty. There is violence and non-consensual sex. If you have a problem with that, leave now. I don't want flames.  
I do not own Hetalia or the characters used. And I do not mean to offend anyone by this.

Matthew stared at the cup of tea in front of him, his small barrier of Kumajiro did not seem enough to separate him from the smiling face across the table. The two nations had been sitting in a tension filled silence for what seemed like hours.  
"So... um," Matthew bit his lip, wishing he could pull his gaze away from the violet eyes staring straight into his. "It was nice of you to visit." Somehow he managed to say the words, even though they were the complete opposite of what he was feeling.

The other blonde continued to smile, nodding slowly. "Da... I know what it is like to be lonely like Matvey. So Russia decided to make visit to him."  
Laughing nervously, Matthew hated the fact that he had to agree with that the other nation said. They were alike – both cold and snowy nations. They were alone for different reasons however. Canada was not well known by other nations while Russia was known by all for his bloody history. Neither predicament was very enjoyable.

"Well, thank you, Ivan." He tried to smile, hugging Kumajiro closer to his chest. The bear squirmed, looking uncomfortable with the situation. And again, they fell into silence.  
"So..." It was Matthew who broke the silence again. "Well..." He couldn't think of a way to word what he wanted to ask in a polite way. Usually it was considered rude to come right out and say, "What do you want?"

"You are probably wondering what Russia wants, da?" The ever present grin made the question more threatening than Matthew had anticipated. As he waited for an answer, he pulled out a flask, pouring some of the strong smelling alcohol into each of their cups before setting it aside with a cheerful expression. Kumajiro decided to ditch, jumping from Canadas arms and heading away, not really wishing to be near the nation anymore.

"Ah, kind of. I mean, it's very... kind of you to visit but... usually if you are in such a cheerful mood, you are looking for some sort of agreement." Matt shifted nervously in his seat, hoping with all of him that he would not be asked once again to become one nation with the Russian.

Ivan stayed quiet for awhile, just sitting, smiling, staring at the blonde. Suddenly he stood, towering over Matthew even from across the table.  
"Russia only wants one thing from Matvey," he spoke slowly, seeming as if he was faking his happy grin.  
Staying silent, Matthew tried to edge away as Ivan walked around the table, stopping as soon as he was right beside the blonde. He was not comfortable with the unexpected closeness and had to fight the urge to whimper as the other leant down, leaving only mere centimetres between them. "Become one with Russia, da?"

Matthews heart sank; this was exactly what he had been fearing. How was he going to refuse the taller nation? He had already refused the Russian twenty-seven times in just this past year. Yes, he had been keeping count. And so far, Ivan had taken it pretty well. There had been no declaration of war or broken bones and most importantly, no invaded vital regions.  
But now, the worst thing that could possibly happen was for Russia to try and invade forcefully. America, one of Canada's most powerful allies, was bust with the war in Iraq. No help would come from him.  
The other nations? They didn't know he existed, really. No one would notice he was in trouble until it was too late.

"Ivan..." he started, shifting nervously under the nations expectant gaze. "You know I can't. I mean, sure, we would be the largest nation in the world but..." he paused, clearing his throat that suddenly felt dry, like pancakes without maple syrup. "It would create a lot of problems and we would have too much to handle. Economies, education, war-force.... We already have a nice... relationship, err, alliance right now. We wouldn't want to ruin a decent friendship, would we?"  
Internally, he could see in the other's eyes that he was not going to accept his excuses this time. He didn't give up though.  
"And, not to mention, we have our own problems managing ourselves. It would be even worse if we combined into a larger mass of land to look after!" He felt desperate now, pulling out any excuse he could think of. Ivan was so close, literally centimetres between their faces.

The blonde reached up to push his glasses back to the proper position on his nose, swallowing the lump in his throat. This was not exactly how he had planned his day to go. His version had a bit more relaxing and a lot less Russia.  
"Matvey." His spine shivered at the way his name was said. "You are smart country, da?"  
Knowing either way he answered, he would end up hearing something he did not want, Matthew nodded.

At this, Ivan grinned. "Of course you are. So you can understand... Russia does not believe your reasons anymore." He paused to tilt his head to the side, the smile still present on his lips. "Russia does not want to wait any longer."  
Canada's heartbeat increased, eyes widening suddenly. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. Was this a declaration of war? An unexpected attack? "You mean..." he trailed off, losing his train of thought and voice in a slight panic.

Ivan's smile suddenly seemed more menacing than ever, as he stared back, not even having to vocalize his answer. In a rash decision, Matthews hands flew up, pushing against the other nations chest as he had a small panic attack. He felt claustrophobic, suffocated and almost sick at the thought.  
His results were futile, however, as an iron grip encased both of his wrists, holding them to the side to make the blonde immobile.

"Matvey," the Russian purred, his voice holding a warning tone. "Don't try to struggle. Russia will be gentle, da?"  
The promise made the Canadians eyes go wide. Ivan was completely serious; this wasn't just a game or twisted joke. Desperately he tugged, trying to free his arms but it didn't even phase the larger nation. He twisted his body, trying to throw the other off balance but all that accomplished was his body connecting with the floor, Ivan following silently, holding himself over the blonde with a maniacal smile.  
Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, silent fear gripping him from the core. "Please," he whispered, voice cracking as the Russian straddled his waist. "You don't want to do this... I... your making a bad decision." The tears finally rolled from his eyes, hot and salty against his skin.

His pleads met deaf ears; Ivan was not going to be swayed by simple tears. In fact, it would only encourage him more. He thrived on the screams and tears of his victims, they were his fuel.  
He did not bother do hold his weight, not caring if he greatly outweighed the thinner boy, instead pinning him down completely. His nails dug into the soft skin of Matthews wrists, looking for another reaction.

The Canadian bit his bottom lip, holding back a cry of pain. He didn't want to break so easily – he wanted to hold out as long as possible. Ivan didn't care; he knew it wouldn't be long before his precious victim would break down.  
"If Matvey would relax, Russia could be kinder. It could even feel good for him as well," Ivan tried once more to coax the nation to submit willingly. His lips were resting on Matthews's cheek, close to the Canadians ear.

The blonde-haired boy shivered at the hot breath against his skin, eyes fluttering close. He thought of his brother and everything he stood for and all the nations who would be effected by this. It was too much, too fast. "I will not... I'm not weak," he managed to reply, voice shaking despite his words. He had decided that he would not go down without a fight. Although he was viewed as a weak nation, he could not be a coward and surrender all his dignity.

Ivan smiled against the other nation's cheek, enjoying this more than was probably healthy. _How noble, _he thought, moving back to look down at his prisoner. Before it was expected, he raised his hand and slapped Matthew, the sound leaving the room in a suffocating silence.  
Immediately, the skin flared an angry red, harsh compared to the boys usually fair complexion. Russia laughed lowly, lips nursing the abused skin with tender kisses.

A whimper escaped the Canadian; his mind and heart were racing. The adrenaline and fear were the only things keeping his screams contained in his throat. Why was this happening?  
Suddenly hands were at his waist, underneath the fabric of his sweater. His face flushed at the contact. He would never have expected the hands touching him to be so warm. _When did he get his gloves off?_

"Ah!" Matthew cried, squirming underneath the nails that were dragging down his chest, the shivers that ran through him feeling electric.  
Ivan took advantage of the moment to crash his lips into the softer ones, still open in a gasp. He pushed his tongue into the Canadians partly open mouth, exploring like he already owned the nation.  
A muffled moan of protest escaped the blonde as he was suffocated by the kiss. The hands on his chest moved down, reaching his belt buckle much too soon; the metallic click of it being undone made Matthew want to vomit, his stomach clenching as it was pulled through the loops on his jeans swiftly and discarded.

But instead of progressing further, the kiss was broken, a string of saliva connecting the two countries for a brief moment. Snarling lightly, Ivan grabbed a handful of the soft blonde hair, using it to pull the boy upright.

Canada winced, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. For a moment he thought he was free, that Russia had given up. But instead, he soon found out that the only reason Ivan let go of his hair was to reach behind him, having pulled off his long billowy scarf, to bind his thin wrists. It was pulled tight, restricting his arms behind his back in an uncomfortable position.  
He looked up at the other nation, the violet hues of his eyes questioning him silently with a mix of defiance and defeat.

"Don't worry, Matvey. This is for your own good, da?" Ivan smirked at him, brushing a few pieces of hair out of his face.


End file.
